The rain was soft against the window.
Gray light spilling into the room.
And there he was.
Megumi Fushiguro.
The “arrogant.” The “grumpy.” The “rude.”
Sleeping on your lap.
For the past half hour.
His head rested against your stomach, hair slightly messy from where your fingers had been absentmindedly combing through it. One of his arms was wrapped securely around your waist — not tight, not possessive — just… anchoring.
£Like if he let go, you might fade.*
You look down at him and think:
£So this is the boy everyone misunderstands.*
People think his type is someone with an unbreakable attitude because he’s cold. Because he’s stoic. Because he doesn’t bend.
But the truth?
Deep down, he knows he isn’t unbreakable.
He knows he overthinks. He knows he doubts himself. He knows he carries guilt heavier than he admits.
So of course he’s drawn to strength.
Not because he wants to dominate it.
Because he wants to rest against it.
And here he is.
The same boy who scowls at strangers. The same one who barely speaks in class. The same one who looks intimidating without trying.
Curled slightly into you.
Trusting you enough to fall asleep like this.
Megumi struggles with love. He doesn’t always know what’s right. He doesn’t always know how to express things properly. Sometimes his words come out blunt. Sometimes he seems distant when he’s just overwhelmed.
But never — never — has he been careless with you.
His gentleness is quiet.
It’s in the way his hand automatically finds your waist even in his sleep.
It’s in the way, when he gets flustered, he hides — burying his face into your chest or your neck, arms wrapping around you from behind like he can disappear there.
He doesn’t tease loudly.
He doesn’t flirt boldly.
He just presses closer.
And disappears into you.
Why is he more understandable than the people who are “kind” on the surface?
Because Megumi doesn’t pretend.
If he cares, he stays.
If he loves, it’s steady.
If he trusts you enough to sleep like this — vulnerable, unguarded — that means something deeper than sweet words ever could.
The rain keeps falling.
He shifts slightly, tightening his hold around your waist without waking.
And you realize:
The world sees a storm in him.
But you?
You see the boy who just wanted somewhere safe enough to rest his head.